Chapter 450

Evelyn Carter looked utterly defeated, her spirit crushed. With all her loved ones taken hostage, she felt completely powerless. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t devise a plan to rescue them. Even contacting the authorities seemed pointless.

The research institute kept calling, demanding her immediate return. But Evelyn wasn’t the same workaholic she used to be. These days, her mind was weighed down by endless worries. No matter how hard she tried to focus, her thoughts kept drifting.

Just then, her phone buzzed, snapping her out of her thoughts. She set aside the book she’d been pretending to read and reached for the device. The caller ID flashed Rosalind Fairchild.

"Hey, Rosalind," she answered, forcing lightness into her voice.

"Cassandra," Rosalind chirped, "I heard your friend’s been discharged from the hospital. So, when are we leaving for Solterra?"

Evelyn winced. "We’ll have to postpone. There are… things I need to handle first."

"Is this about your grandparents?" Rosalind’s tone softened. "Still no leads?"

Evelyn’s grip on the phone tightened. "Julian Whitmore has them hidden. Tracking them down won’t be easy."

A scoff came through the line. "Well, at least Donovan finally agreed to treatment. I swear, if we don’t get him to Solterra soon and fix those eyes and legs, I might strangle him myself. This job is not worth the paycheck."

Evelyn couldn’t help but chuckle. "Rosalind, is he listening right now? Or are you just saying this for his benefit?"

Rosalind laughed. "Sharp as ever."

"You two can go ahead without me," Evelyn suggested.

"Are you kidding? I don’t speak Solterran, and we have zero connections there. I can’t just drag a half-blind, grumpy ex-agent across the globe with no backup."

Evelyn sighed. "Fair point."

Then, a deep voice cut in—Donovan’s.

"Who said I don’t speak Solterran?"

Rosalind gasped. "You do?"

"Obviously," Donovan replied, dry as ever.

Rosalind snorted. "Wow. Here I thought your only skills were scowling, throwing tantrums, breaking things, and telling me to get lost."

"Shut up if you have nothing useful to say," Donovan snapped.

"Oh, but I do," Rosalind teased.

"You insufferable woman."

"Hopeless," she shot back.

"Say that again. I dare you."

"Hopeless."

A rustling sound, then Donovan’s growl. "Come here. I’ll make you regret it. I’ll even change my last name if I can’t shut you up today."

"Donovan Blackwood," Rosalind taunted.

Silence.

Then, Rosalind’s voice turned urgent. "Cassandra, gotta go. Donovan’s on the warpath again. But don’t worry—he’s half-blind and slow. Never catches me anyway."

A crash.

"Too close! Gotta run!" The call ended abruptly.

Evelyn stared at her phone, baffled.

Somehow, Rosalind’s chaotic caregiving had breathed new life into Donovan. Maybe his desperation to escape her was the push he needed to finally seek treatment. The thought brought Evelyn a rare flicker of amusement.

She set her phone down and took a deep breath. Time to pull herself together.

Last night’s retreat didn’t mean surrender.

An hour later, Evelyn stood outside Blackwood Manor.

The midday sun scorched her skin, the heat radiating off the pavement. She hesitated for just a moment before nodding at the guards and stepping inside.

Squinting against the glare, she walked the familiar path through the front garden.

Then—a figure emerged from the house.

Evelyn froze.

Victoria Hudson stepped out, pausing mid-stride when she spotted Evelyn. A practiced smile curved her lips as she approached. "Ms. Wright. What a surprise. Here to see Liam?"

Evelyn nodded. "Yes."

Victoria’s smile didn’t waver. "Liam mentioned last night that you two… ended things again. Is that true?"

Evelyn studied her. In the past, hearing about late-night conversations between Victoria and Liam would have twisted her stomach. Now?

Nothing.